


Different Paces

by Xyriath



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9482672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: Russell Tringham is far too excellent at concealing his feelings, even when those feelings last years.  So how the hell did Edward "Oblivious" Elric figure them out?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fletcherstringham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fletcherstringham/gifts).



> Commission for Fletcherstringham!
> 
> No matter what she says, it's NOT my fault she ships it.

“Where is he?!”

Russell’s presence as he flung open the double doors of the military’s hospital waiting room turned all heads, leaving a few nurses gaping and doctors glaring.  He glanced around for a familiar face, gritting his teeth as none appeared.  Instead, he whirled on the uniformed soldier guarding what had to be the hallway, the insignia on his shoulders indicating that he was in charge.  “Russell Tringham.  I’ve been called here by—”

Though the soldier opened his mouth, narrowed eyes indicating that he was about to rip Russell a new one—and Russell didn’t fucking _care_ ; he’d take on the entire military if he had to—the doors then burst open, cutting off whatever retort the soldier had planned.

“There you fucking are!” the familiar voice snapped, and Russell turned to see the wide, golden eyes of Edward Elric.  If he hadn’t been so preoccupied, he might have made a smartass comment: Russell had never seen Ed in uniform before, and he looked utterly different.  The brow furrowed in the signature scowl.  “He’s this way.  C’mon.”

Russell followed, mouth dry, jaw tight.  “It’s about goddamn time,” he hissed.  “I can’t believe it took you this long—if he’s hurt—!”

“We did our best, okay?  Now shut up; he’s awake and asking for you.  The doctors’ll kick you out if you upset him.”

Given Ed’s history with hospitals, Russell thought sourly, he would know.  But he closed his mouth, the only thing keeping him from sprinting the fact that he didn’t know the direction of the room.

At long last—at least, it seemed like it—Ed pointed.  Russell’s head swiveled over and he saw the blue of another uniform, a guard standing outside the room.  _Now_ he sprinted, practically skidding to a halt as the soldier stepped in front of the door, reaching for his weapon.

“Who the hell are you?” the soldier snapped, and Russell straightened, glaring down at him; his six feet and three inches gave him a perfect height for glaring down his nose at anyone in his way.

“I’m Russell Tringham, and if someone didn’t tell you I was coming, I’ll know why.  Now _move._ ”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed, but then he caught sight of Ed, striding up behind him.  Thank god; Ed would tell this idiot—

Russell yelped as a vice gripped his ear, yanking it down so hard that he nearly had to bend double.

“Can it, Tringham.  Lieutenant, you can let us in.”

Russell protested only as long as it took for the guard to move and the grip on his ear to lessen.  After that, he turned the doorknob, darting inside.

Blood.  The first thing Russell saw was the bright red of blood, stark against a white bandage.  A nurse was lifting it, discarding it, and tying a new strip of white around Belsio’s forehead.

Though Russell had fully intended to rush over, take Belsio’s hand and fervently question him, he froze, mouth drying again in anxiety.

Finally, however, Belsio’s eye cracked open, his expression utterly unimpressed.

“About time you got here.  What have you been running for?  I’m not going anywhere.”

Russell let out a sharp laugh-sob, stepping forward as the nurse stepped away, moving slower, trying to restrain the shaking in his hands, the concern in his chest.

“How are you?  Are you all right?  Did they do anything horrible to you?”

“They kidnapped me and held me without feeding me for a few days.  That was pretty horrible.”  Despite the words, Belsio’s tone was matter-of-fact and a little resigned, as if he knew the folly of the rest of the world was unavoidable, even if he didn’t want it to be.  “But as you can see, I’m fine.”

Russell nodded, the tension beginning to subside from his muscles.  Belsio had been kidnapped because of _him._   For _his_ research, back in Xenotime, and his father’s.  As Russell had destroyed it all, the only remaining copy resided in his brain, and certain unsavory groups had found out and wanted it.

“Good.  I was worried they’d hurt you badly.”  Russell tried not to sound too concerned—too _sappy_ , as Ed would say.  He glanced at the fresh bandage.

“Well, they did shoot me in the knee—”

“ _What?!_ ” Russell yelped in horror, recoiling, eyes wide.

“—but the doctors say it’ll be fine.  I won’t even need surgery.”

Russell stared, jaw open.

“A couple broken bones, but minor, bruises when they couldn’t get me scared…”  He shrugged with one shoulder, and Russell could suddenly see that the other arm was bandaged tightly to his torso.  “Again, I’ll be fine.”

“Shit,” Russell said weakly, wanting to sink into one of the chairs.  But if Belsio was in pain, Russell could deal with a little wobbliness in his legs.

“We got to him before they could do anything particularly awful,” Ed chimed in from the entrance.  “Amateurs.  They should’ve known we’d never let that shit fall into their hands.”

“The military guards dangerous alchemy with the same energy that they proclaim their superiority,” Russell muttered, though he couldn’t find too much irritation in the words.  They _had_ saved Belsio.

“Don’t start fights,” Belsio sighed, grimacing.  “I have enough of a headache already.”

“I didn’t start it!” both of them snapped in unison, then glared at each other.  Russell turned back away to face Belsio, irritation fading.  On impulse, he reached out to twitch a strand of hair out of Belsio’s face.  He shouldn’t let it obscure his vision like that.

This revealed, of course, Belsio’s eyes staring up at him, blinking with surprise.  Russell quickly snatched his hand back, trying not to redden.  But as Belsio watched him, he couldn’t resist lifting his hand again and reaching out to take Belsio’s, large and warm and rough.  That was fine, right?  That was something that friends did.  Absolutely good, platonic friends.  Because that’s what this was.

“Fucking hell,” Ed muttered.  “You two are worse than Roy and I were.”  When Russell straightened, turning to glare at Ed and ask what the fuck he meant, Ed continued.

“Our official report is that the group kidnapped Belsio in an attempt to gain your father’s research into the Red Water.  As for why they chose Belsio, from what he’s told us, the kidnappers wanted to go after a romantic partner, since they figured that was more likely to get results.  Good thing they didn’t reckon on us being so good at tracking down missing persons.”

The self-praise went completely over Russell’s head, much as he would have usually tried to mock it.  The phrase before that had shot through him, burying itself into his back, worming its way into the pit of his stomach.  His jaw dropped as his brain scrambled to process the words.

_What?_

Russell stared down at Belsio, who seemed to have developed a sudden allergy to looking anyone in the eye.  Russell clenched his fists, warring between suspicion and hope, wondering which would win out.  He knew which he wanted to, what he wanted to be real, but it would be stupid.  And the chances?  Of Belsio _actually_ being interested in some stupid kid?  True, he had held out hope that after he had turned eighteen, Belsio might confess his undying love that he had felt improper to voice while Russell was too young, but two years had gone by without so much as a hint of it and he had set that childish dream aside.  Yes, Belsio had moved to Central at Russell’s and Fletcher’s request, but any friend would do that.

“That’s not…” he managed to choke out.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”  Still, he kept a close eye on Belsio’s face as Russell’s face heated.

He knew that face too well, knew that despite its schooled mask of disinterest, Belsio had tells.  Too subtle for most people to notice, undoubtedly, but after years…

Belsio’s face tightened slightly, but then relaxed.  What had they said to him, down in that dank basement?  “That’s right.”

But Russell had caught the pause.

Ed reached out and slapped Russell heartily on the back, sending him lurching forward, eyes wide.  When Russell whirled to glare, determinedly ignoring the widening of Belsio’s eyes, Ed wore a blatant shit-eating grin.

“Then figure out what the hell you are.  We’ll need to know for the paperwork.”

Without another word, the damned brat turned on his heel and strode out of the hospital room.

Russell glared after him, taking deep breaths, like the doctor he saw in Central had taught him.  Tempting as it was to go after Ed, to eviscerate him with the words that Russell knew would have him furious, that would involve leaving Belsio’s bedside.  Fletcher wouldn’t be here for another hour, not with how far out of town he had gone in the search, so it would have to wait until then.

Another deep breath, and he turned quickly back towards the hospital bed, eyes settling on Belsio’s face.

He caught a glimpse of sadness, then surprise, and Belsio looked away again.

“What?” he blurted out before he could help himself.  Something was going on here—even _Ed_ had seen it—and Russell did _not_ like being in the dark.  He deserved much better!  Especially about _Belsio!_  Had he said something to Ed?  No, Belsio was too private for that.  Then Ed had noticed, the usually oblivious brat had noticed before Russell, and that was absolutely unacceptable.

“Nothing,” Belsio said quietly, but Russell scowled with an expression that would have rivaled even Ed’s crossing his arms.

“Bullshit,” he snapped, shoulders hunching.  “I’m not stupid.  And I’m not a _kid_ , either, so stop treating me like one.”

Another brief expression across Belsio’s face, this one pained.  Russell’s lingering suspicions suddenly grew into something much larger.

“Hold the fuck up.”  His scowl lightened into a concentrating frown, so different than his usual smug smirk, but this was _important._  It couldn’t… but he had to ask.  Even if he would make a fool of himself.  Wasn’t Belsio worth that?

“I’m holding,” Belsio murmured, and Russell rolled his eyes.

“Why does everyone think we’re boyfriends?”

Belsio remained silent, a slight raise of an eyebrow the only indication that he had heard the question.  The eyebrow spoke volumes, and Russell could feel his face coloring.

“Yes, okay, I know that people noticed!” he spat, anger growing again.  “I know that you did!  Some people figured it out, that I…”  He took another deep breath, then bit his lip.  “I know that you know.  But I knew that there wasn’t any chance when you didn’t say anything.  Spared my stupid pride,” he spat bitterly.  “But then why do they think that we’re _together?”_

Belsio _still_ didn’t answer, and Russell grabbed his arm.

“Belsio, if you’ve had a big stupid crush on me all this time too and haven’t told me, I’m—I’ll finish the job that the kidnappers started!”

Belsio closed his eyes and sighed.  “Russell, please.”  The voice was soft, notes of regret threading through it, and that only served to cement Russell’s suspicions further.  “We can’t… I’m almost twice your age.”

“So?” Russell challenged immediately, the words ringing off alarm bells within his brain.  “I’m an adult.  I can make my own decisions.”

But Belsio said nothing, which only deepened Russell’s suspicions further.  What could Belsio say, that wouldn’t make things worse, if Russell was right?

Russell stepped closer, reached out, took Belsio’s shoulder.  He hoped Belsio couldn’t feel the slight shaking, couldn’t sense his anxiety rocketing into overdrive, couldn’t see how his chest rose and fell quickly.  Maybe Russell was an idiot.  But this would be worth it.

“I’m…”  Russell swallowed as he croaked out the word.  “I’m going to kiss you now.  And you can stop me, if you want.  But I’m gonna do it, if you don’t.”

Belsio’s eyes widened at that, and Russell had to look away, even as he bent down.  He did it slowly, not looking to steal this, not looking to indulge for just a moment but to make it clear that he wouldn’t be denied this because of Belsio’s stupid reservations.

But even then, as Russell’s lips touched Belsio’s, he didn’t turn away.

Russell kissed him for a few moments, knowing that his lips would be clumsy from lack of experience, and he could feel his face reddening—

And then Belsio kissed _back._

Soft fingers brushed against Russell’s jaw, tilting him gently into a position that he found to be much more convenient.  The pressure against his own lips wasn’t too hard, but enough that Russell felt comfortable in returning it for a little longer, a soft noise escaping his throat that provoked a sharp inhalation of breath through Belsio’s nose.

And then Russell pulled back, eyes wide, face on fire and elation in his heart.  With a resigned sigh, Belsio’s hand turned over, palm up, and took Russell’s own.

Russell had to clear his throat a few times before he could speak again.

“So.”  He smiled crookedly, a sad approximation of his usual smirk, but it gave him back a little more confidence to continue speaking.  “Think we could give this a shot?”

“I guess I wouldn’t be entirely opposed.”

“And it’s about goddamn time.”

Both of them turned to look at Ed, back again, standing in the doorway, carrying two cups of water.  He handed one to Russell, then lifted the other, grinning yet again.

“Mazel tov.”

Russell had to roll his eyes, but as he turned back to Belsio, squeezing his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry in the slightest.

 


End file.
